


Foreplay

by SevenCorvus



Series: Avengers Porn Table [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Clint Feels, First Date, First Time, M/M, One Shot, PWP, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fic, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 06:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenCorvus/pseuds/SevenCorvus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint had not quite known what to expect when the Director first approached him about spending some extracurricular time together, so to speak. Fury had made it clear that there was no pressure, that there would be no repercussions if he said no, but there was little chance of him doing that. </p><p>Prompt: foreplay<br/>Characters: Clint Barton/Nick Fury</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foreplay

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Camp NaNo and the prompt "foreplay" on the [Avengers Porn Table](http://sevencorvus.livejournal.com/25545.html). Feedback is love and will be rewarded with cookies (and smut).

Clint had not quite known what to expect when the Director first approached him about spending some extracurricular time together, so to speak. Fury had made it clear that there was no pressure, that there would be no repercussions if he said no, but there was little chance of him doing that. Whatever Fury’s reasons for choosing him to approach, Clint was not likely to turn down a chance to feel that strong body against his, to be with someone because he wanted to, because he respected them, and wanted to bring them pleasure.

At first, he had thought that they would head over to a safe house, but based on the personal effects scattered around, Clint was not quite sure that that was all it was. He thought that they would get straight to business, accomplish what he assumed they were there for. He certainly did not expect Fury to decide to cook dinner for him from scratch; some Italian meal that he had never had before, but certainly smelled good. It was a bit of a shock, seeing the intimidating Director of SHIELD chopping up ingredients as he hummed along to the jazz music playing on the stereo.

Clint gripped his glass of wine tightly, wondering what was going on, what angle Fury was working now, and to what end. He did not need to butter him up or try to impress him; Clint had already agreed to sleep with him. He was a sure thing, so what was Fury trying to accomplish?

They ate dinner slowly, Clint trying to remember if anyone had ever cooked for him before. Fury asked him about his interests, wanting to know what he did away from SHIELD, what kind of movies he enjoyed. He invited him to sit down on the couch, telling Clint that he’d do the dishes later, then bringing over strawberries and chocolate fondue and setting them down on the coffee table. The Director sat down next to him, putting his arm around Clint’s shoulders and pulling him back against him. Clint tensed slightly, before relaxing, resting his body along Fury’s with a sigh.

Fury chuckled softly, one hand coming up to run through Clint’s hair, brushing it back from his forehead and massaging his scalp. The archer leaned into it, tempted to purr, as Fury dipped one of the strawberries into the warm, liquid chocolate and raised it to Clint’s mouth. He took a bite, moaning as he savored the taste, closing his eyes in pleasure; then opening them to beg wordlessly for more, the other man obliging. Clint sighed softly to himself, his muscles relaxing further, as he gave himself over to Fury’s treatment. He had no idea why the Director wanted to hand feed him, why he was treating him this way, but he decided to enjoy it while he could. 

It was not like he often had the chance to lean on someone else’s strength, to relax and let them take care of him, with the trust that they would not do him harm. In truth, it was a much greater treat than the dessert.   
Clint licked his lips, chasing after the taste of chocolate, as Fury ran his hand down to his neck, tilting his head slightly, and covering the archer’s lips with his own. He brushed against them lightly first, tempting Clint for more, then licked along the edges, sinking his teeth in Clint’s lower lip and soothing the bite with his tongue. 

The younger man whined, hands coming around to pull Fury in closer, the Director pressing him down against the couch. They made out, rubbing against each other like teenagers, Clint arching up just to feel that strong form against him. He normally did not like having someone else on top, it made him feel suffocated, but with Fury he felt safe, protected, almost like the other man cared about him.

They stayed there, exchanging increasingly heated kisses, before Fury moved to stand up, pulling Clint up with him, and guiding him to the bedroom. He stopped him next to the bed, pulling Clint’s shirt over his head. The Director froze for a moment as if admiring him, running his eye along the archer’s now bared skin. Clint felt himself blush at the attention, reaching out to return the favor, only for his hands to be captured in Fury’s grip, a kiss brushed across each of his palms. 

Fury ran his hands up the archer’s arms and shoulders, enjoying the feel of strong muscle beneath his fingertips. He stroked his way down Clint’s chest, teasing his nipples into hard nubs. Then bending down to suck and bite at them, as Clint moaned above him. The Director stepped back, enjoying the red flush spreading down the archer’s chest, the sweat beading on his skin.

He knelt on the floor, reaching for Clint’s shoes and untying one and then the other, holding the other man steady as he kicked them off. Clint squirmed slightly, uncomfortable with the sight of Fury on his knees, unzipping his pants and sliding them and his underwear down, pulling off his socks as well. It should be him on his knees for Fury, Clint thought, he should be the one enjoying this kind of attention.

All thinking cut off though, when he felt a wet tongue lick up the side of his cock, a hot mouth pulling him in, sucking around him, Fury’s hands holding his hips in place as his legs suddenly become unsteady. Clint whined, his eyes meeting Fury’s darkened one, that gaze drawing him in, keeping his eyes locked on the other man. Then his eyes rolled back into his head, his balls drawing up, as he climaxed, Fury swallowing down his come. Clint collapsed backwards on to the bed, trying to catch his breath, muscles clenching and unclenching in pleasure. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking that if this was the foreplay, he was not sure he would survive the sex.


End file.
